Bright Young Things
by BroadwayBaggins
Summary: One night in New York's most notorious-and secretive-speakeasy, bright young thing Regina Mills has a chance encounter with the establishment's reclusive owner, known to his customers as "Robin Hood." 1920s Historical AU.
1. Chapter 1

The hottest new speakeasy in town, the one that everyone wanted the password to, the one that had the best booze and the best entertainment and the best host, was Sherwood Forest.

The buzz around Manhattan was all about Sherwood Forest, how the proprietor had earned himself the nickname of "Robin Hood" for stealing from the rich (well, the rum-runners and bootleggers, anyway) and giving to the poor (the poor, deprived citizens of Manhattan, just looking for a drink and a good time that the government no longer seemed willing to let them have). He was generous with the drinks and never skimped on anything, and although his prices could be steep and his rules strict (the password changed more often than any other joint in the city, and his bouncer, Will Scarlet, was always willing to help break up a scuffle if needed), it was worth it for the good time enjoyed by all. Those who had met the mysterious Robin Hood said he was charming and charismatic, always up for a laugh but shrewd and fair in his business, and far more moral than a man in his position might have been. He was known as a man of honor, stepping in to help when patrons got a little too handsy with the female employees and singers, willing to forgive a customer if he couldn't pay (within reason, of course), and looked out for those who worked for him with a fierce loyalty. Those who had been privileged enough to meet him couldn't sing his praises enough, but few had been so lucky. Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest was a recluse in his own establishment, appearing only to break up a fight or look in on his patrons or to close a deal before disappearing into the back once again. They said that he had been shut off from the world, so to speak, since the death of his wife nearly five years ago now of the Spanish Flu. If you were able to catch a glimpse of Sherwood's Forest mysterious owner, then you were lucky indeed.

Not that Regina Mills cared about any of that, of course. She came to do three things: to dance, to get drunk, and to forget.

She came to forget her mother's harsh words and judgmental stares, to escape the endless list of expectations that Regina would never be able to live up to. Her mother was embarrassingly old-fashioned, wanting Regina to make a good marriage to secure their fortune—her father had been wealthy when Regina was growing up, but bad investments and gambling debts had eaten away at their wealth until there was little left. It was up to Regina to save them all, Cora had decided when Regina was just a child, to make an advantageous marriage that would put them back into the position they had once filled. She would be the darling of Manhattan society on the arm of some dreary businessman or oil tycoon, trapped in the kind of loveless marriage Regina had thought didn't exist anymore. But her mother was trapped in the past as well, telling Regina that she didn't have a choice, that it was her duty to save her family from ruin. "I'm doing this for you, my dear," she'd say, her voice as cloying and sweet as poisoned honey. "You'll thank me some day. You don't want to marry for love. You think you do, but you're young. You'll see some day I was right. Love is weakness."

Her words and taunts stung, her endless list of demands exhausted Regina until she wanted to pack her bags and run far, far away. But that was impossible, she knew—her mother would track her down in a heartbeat. So instead, she snuck out, against her mother's wishes for Cora would surely die if she knew her only daughter frequented such a place, and made her way to the speakeasies that lined the New York streets. Sometimes she brought her friends with her, but other times, like tonight, she went alone, needing solitude even as she mingled and mixed with the city's best and worst, just another flapper lost in the crowd.

She drained the last of her gin and stood up, straightening her beaded headband and the fringe on her dress—if her mother saw her right now, Regina knew she would never hear the end of it—and made her way over to the dance floor, where the effects of the booze was throwing everyone's inhibitions to the wind. Leg and elbows flew as the patrons did the Charleston to their heart's content—some better than others, Regina noted with a smirk—and she was intent on joining them. But a disturbance on the dance floor caught her eye, and she found herself drawn to the scene in spite of herself—a large man with a full beard was arguing with the bartender, who had to have been the largest man Regina had ever seen.

Well, her mother always did say that Regina's curiosity would be the death of her.

"Just one more drink, Little John, please," the man was pleading as Regina crept closer. She just wanted to know what all the commotion was about, and then she'd retreat back to the bar, or do some dancing. But first…

"You've had enough, Leroy. We don't want any trouble here. I'm afraid you have to go." The bartender—Little John—nodded at Will Scarlet, who grabbed hold of Leory's arm to pull him toward the exit.

"Come on then, out ya go!" Scarlet said in that peculiar accent of his, and Regina smiled.

But her smile quickly faded as Leroy pulled himself free of Scarlet's grip, slamming his elbow back into his face and knocking the smaller man off-balance. Regina gasped as Leroy lunged forward, his eyes out of focus but full of rage, and launched himself at Little John.

What happened next was almost too quick for Regina to see. She saw Little John step to the side calmly, knowing he could take whatever attack the drunk man was launching. Leroy's fist sailed toward the bartender's face, but he dodged just in time…

And as he did so, sent his massive elbow colliding with the side of Regina's face.

Instantly she cried out, sinking to the floor. She saw stars. Her mother had slapped her in the past, but her blows were nothing compared to this pain that she now felt radiating through her. The crowd gasped, and she felt a large, warm hand on her back as a deep voice asked her if she was alright, but she couldn't speak, couldn't see, couldn't even look up to answer him.

"What is going on out here?"

The new voice cut through Regina's pain, making her look up in spite of it. A man in a crisp suit stood in the doorway, his blue eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. He was impeccably dressed, his sandy-blonde hair combed to perfection, and he scowled as his eyes landed on Leroy, now restrained by both Will Scarlet and Little John.

"Again?" he asked.

"Aye, Robin," Will said. "And it wasn't just himself he hurt this time." He indicated Regina, still kneeling on the dirty floor.

"It was my fault—an accident," Little John said quickly. "Leroy—"

"Get him out of here," the man said, leaving no room for explanation just yet. "We don't tolerate such behavior here. He's just got himself barred from Sherwood Forest. Now get him out of my sight."

The two men obeyed, ushering Leroy out without another word. Regina felt footsteps approaching as she knelt on the floor, and then he was squatting down to be on her level, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right? Can you stand? Do you feel dizzy at all?"

She had felt dizzy, at first, but now it was starting to subside. "I think so," she said, and the man gently took her hand in his to bring her slowly to her feet. She swayed for a moment, but remained upright as the band, which had stopped playing during all the ruckus, struck up another tune. "I apologize for all of this. You should never have been put in harm's way."

Regina's hand was clapped over her eye, which she knew was already starting to swell. "My mother," she panted, suddenly frightened. "She can't know I was here. If she sees me like this…"

_She'll lock me away, she'll only let me out when there's someone she wants me to impress. I'll be stuck in a crumbling, gilded cage until I marry, and then…who knows what will happen._

"Don't worry. I'll get you some ice to bring down the swelling, and the girls can lend you some makeup to cover the rest. Your mother won't even know the difference. Just follow me. What's your name?"

Against her better judgment, she told him. "Regina."

He smiled, his face gentle and kind. Regina found herself drawn to his blue eyes, to the gentleness and compassion she saw there. "A queenly name indeed." He was English, like Will Scarlet, but his accent was softer, more lyrical and poised. "Robin Locksley, at your service," he said with a grin, and Regina's eyes widened, realizing this must be the famed Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest. "Now, if you'll just step into my office, we'll see about getting you some ice for that eye. Right this way, my lady."


	2. Chapter 2

The room that Robin had secreted away to was tucked away in the back of the speakeasy, past the bar and rooms that Regina was sure were used as storage and perhaps a green room for the live entertainment. The room was dominated by a huge, sleek desk made of dark wood, with papers and receips and god knows what strewn about its surface. A state-of-the-art telephone rested on the desk, mouthpiece not hung up properly. "Pardon the mess," Robin said breezily, hanging up the telephone and sitting Regina down in a plush chair. "I don't often get female company back here. Ruby!" he called out, and one of the cigarette girls appeared in the doorway. "Can you please get me some ice for Miss Regina here? She had a bit of an incident on the dance floor.

Ruby's eyes widened with sympathy. "Heard about that. Leroy?"

"I believe so." Regina said stiffly.

"Rotten luck. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be right back with that ice and we'll have you back there cutting a rug in no time." She threw a wink—Regina wasn't sure whether it was meant for her or the proprieter—and turned on her heel, shaking her head and mumbling about the low-lifes they were letting into Sherwood Forest these days.

"You'll have to forgive me for all of this. We've had problems with Leory in the past, but they've escalated. Unfortunately, he served with some of my employees in the War, so they're reluctant to turn him away. And as for Will Scarlet…" He shook his head. "He should be tending bar, with Little John at the front keeping the riffraff out, but he begged me to let him try out the head-of-house position. I think it makes him feel important to have people tell him the password. I only meant to humor him. I never expected my agreement would cause someone to get hurt. Please, forgive me, Miss Regina."

Regina sighed, wincing as she gingerly felt at the swelling skin around her eye. "I suppose it's not your fault," she said finally. Her mother would have thrown an absolute conniption—and indeed, Regina had been considering it on the walk up here—but he truly did look sorry, and Regina felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of lording it over his head. "It could have happened to anybody."

"Yes, but the point still stands, it _shouldn't_ have happened to anybody. Leroy will no longer darken the door of Sherwood Forest. I'll see to it personally."

"That's really not—"

"I insist."

Before Regina could protest more, Ruby returned with a few chips of ice wrapped in a handkerchief. "Just holler if you need more," she said as she handed them off. She inspected Regina's eye critically for a moment before nodding. "It's not as bad as it feels, trust me. Play your cards right and there might not even be a bruise."

"Thank God," Regina muttered through clenched teeth, holding the ice to up to her stinging brow. Ruby left, but left the door to the office open. Through it, Regina could hear the faint strains of jazz from the dance floor she had just left.

"Here," Robin said after a moment. "Let me, please. I feel awful that this happened on my watch."

Ordinarily, Regina knew she would have protested. But the alcohol in her system combined with the blow to the head was making her feel fuzzy, and Robin was being kinder to her than she could remember anyone being for a long time…and part of her relished the idea of having him tend to her so closely.

"I suppose," she said as she handed the handkerchief to Robin and he pressed it gently against her skin, "I should consider myself lucky. You're a bit of an enigma around these parts. I can't remember anyone mentioning ever seeing you. I guess I'm one of the few."

He smiled faintly. "I do like to make myself scarce. In my line of work, it's just easier."

"But your customers seem to adore you—or at least, what you do for them. Why not come out once in a while and give them a thrill?"

His blue eyes seemed to dance in the electric lights. "Who says I don't, from time to time?"

"Do you?"

"I asked you first."

"I believe I asked you first."

"I suppose you did. Fine. Ask me anything about myself that you like, and I shall tell you the truth."

"Even if you weren't, how would I possibly know the difference?"

He grinned again. "I suppose you wouldn't. But please, Miss Regina, do humor me."

"Is your name really Robin Hood?"

"It is indeed. Why do you ask?"

"Seems like a funny coincidence, that's all. Why do you stay so reclusive, even in your own place?"

"I suppose I like to think of myself as a puppetmaster, pulling the strings and keeping things running without being part of the play myself. If that answers your question."

"But then why run such a risky business? Why break the law at all and put yourself at risk of being exposed, in more ways than one, almost every night?"

He chuckled then, surprising her as he continued to gently dab at her eye with the ice. She had to admit, the cool cloth was helping considerably, and his touch was so gentle it barely hurt anymore. "Because the law banning the sale and consumption of alcohol, Miss Regina, is nothing short of ridiculous. It's a bunch of fat cat old men in suits on Capitol Hill, thinking they can regulate the lives of the working class. It's taking money away from those who truly need it, sinking a whole industry into the ground, and for what? So a bunch of teetotalling politicians in overpriced suits can sit around and think that they're reforming the deprived lower classes of America? The law, to put it simply, isn't just stupid, it's a damn travesty. It's hurting more people than it's helping. I'm just doing my part to make sure the status quo remains largely unchanged."

"So you're not just in it for the money?" Regina asked, taken aback.

"Does that surprise you?"

"A bit, yes."

"Good. I'm glad to know I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. But to answer your inquiry, no, money is not my main objective. There is money in it for me, yes—quite a lot of it. I'm not too proud to say it. But not all of it goes into my own personal coffers. I make donations to orphanages around the city. I pay my employees a far more substantial wage than they'd get at any other speakeasy in town. And I do have a son to think of, as well, and no expense is spared on him." He smiled softly. "I'm not too proud to say that either."

Regina's face—her entire demeanor—softened. "You have a son?" she whispered.

"Indeed I do. Would you like to see a photograph of him? We just had one taken last year for his birthday. Oh, how he hated having to sit still! His name is Roland, and—"

Before he could reach into his wallet to take out the photo, the telephone on the desk rang, making them both jump. It rang only once, and Robin suddenly sprang to his feet, a frown crossing his features. He swore under his breath.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"That wasn't a telephone call. Not a real one, anyway. It was a warning."

"About what?"

Then Regina heard shouts and breaking glass, and a pounding on the front doors. Her blood ran cold. "A raid," Robin said solemnly. "It appears the police have caught up to me at last."

Regina was on her feet in an instant, her eyes wide and panicked. "The cops are here? Oh, God. I can't be arrested, Robin, I can't. You don't understand, my mother will kill me—"

"Don't worry, Regina." The loss of the title of Miss did not escape Regina's notice. "I have no intention of getting you arrested this night. You're going to come with me."

"Where?"

"Someplace where we'll both be safe. Come on. Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

Before Regina even had time to respond, he had taken hold of her hand. His grip was firm, but not painful, and she realized how long it had been since she'd been touched in such a gentle manner. Still, she hung back, unwilling to follow him. "I—I can't," she whispered helplessly, feeling caught between two impossible choices. This Robin Hood had said he wanted to help her, and she wanted so desperately to believe that his intentions were true. But could she trust him? Could she place her safety in the hands of a total stranger, no matter how well-meaning and chivalrous he might be? Regina's past experiences had taught her that trust was not a thing to be given away too easily…but she so wanted her first impressions on Robin Hood to be correct.

"Miss Regina," he said evenly, turning around to face her. His breathing and manner was calm, but she could see the urgency in his eyes. "We don't have any time to dawdle. You have a choice. Either you stay here, find a way out with the rest of my customers and take your chances with the local law enforcement, or you come with me. I will personally see to it that you are brought to safety. I swear to it."

It did not seem like much of a choice. Either she stayed where she was and risked arrest—and the wrath of her mother, which would be far more traumatic than anything she would face at the hands of some hapless New York City cops—or she could take her chances with this enigmatic man. One path would surely lead to arrest and punishment, and one only might. The choice could not have been easier to make. Slowly, Regina found herself nodding. "I'll come with you."

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." Still keeping his hold on her hand, he crossed over to the far wall, feeling around the thick wood panels. Regina heard a click, then turned to see another panel of the wall sliding away to reveal a dark corridor and what looked like a small, crude set of stairs.

Her mouth dropped open. "A secret passage?"

"I chose this venue for a reason, you see. A little extra insurance, if you will. In my line of work, one can never be too careful. Follow me."

"But how did you know that it was here in the first place?"

As Robin pulled her into the dim passage, she saw him smile wryly. "You'd be surprised how many secrets are hiding in a place like New York, Regina."

_No,_ Regina thought to herself, recalling uneasily the sting of her mother's cruel fists and crueler words. _No, I really wouldn't._

"I thought such a passage might prove in handy one day, and as it turns out, I was right. Sherwood Forest's inventory of forbidden liquor is also kept down here," Robin explained as he carefully shut the panel behind them so that it once again blended into the wall, leaving them in darkness. Regina's breath caught, but only for a moment. She heard the faint strike of a match, and the passage was filled with dull candlelight. Someone had left them a lantern.

"I installed electricity down here as well," he explained. "Just a few bulbs here and there, can't have one of my staff accidentally tripping in the dark and spilling all of our income, but I'm rather afraid that the light will give away our cover." Regina nodded. "This will have to do for now. Come along then. Stay close."

She took a step, stumbling in her heels on rough, uneven ground. A thought struck her. "What about your staff?" she demanded in a whisper. "Ruby, Will Scarlet…Little John? What will they do?"

"You needn't worry about them. My staff has escape routes of their own, and they're far too clever to get themselves caught. The police will find only a few stragglers too drunk to run and some half-empty bottles of gin when all the chaos dies down."

"And your customers?"

"If they're foolish enough to get themselves arrested, that's their own fault. Someone they know will bail them out and they'll be back again at my door next week."

"You seem rather confident," Regina mused. She was still not quite sure what to make of this man. Yes, he was kind and considerate—far more than Regina was used to, certainly—but he was also full of himself, and rather blasé about the idea of his loyal clientele under arrest. Regina supposed, with a place as popular as Sherwood Forest, those customers who did get arrested would hardly be missed.

"I know I run a good business—maybe not in the eyes of the law, I will admit." Even in the darkness, Regina could tell he was smiling. "But I'm afraid I owe you another apology, my lady. It appears that my establishment has ruined your night for the second time. I do hope that in time I can be forgiven."

The passage became narrower as they continued, sloping uphill. Regina passed a crude door, which must have been the hiding place for the speakeasy's alcohol stash. She almost smiled. She stuck close to Robin as she walked, their breath and footsteps the only sound in the tunnel. The air smelled rich and earthy, not musty or stale like Regina might have expected…less like a tunnel and more like a forest, although she knew that was impossible in the middle of the city.

"I suppose," Regina said in response. "I mean, I didn't even really get to dance."

"Well, you'll have to allow me to make it up to you."

"What, you're not already doing that by helping me evade arrest?"

"Oh, no," Robin said immediately. "No, that's just common courtesy. I'm just doing what any honorable man would do when faced with a lady in distress."

"I wouldn't say I was in distress," Regina protested. "But I do appreciate the help…more than you know." Her voice trailed off, and she sighed, hugging her arms to herself. She had left her wrap at her table upstairs, and now she found herself missing it…or at least missing the sense of security it provided. Robin shot her a smile over his shoulder, shaking his head.

"I meant no offense," he assured her softly. "I just meant it looked like you could use a little help."

His face was full of such sincere kindness, the sort that Regina could not remember being directed at her for so long, that it almost brought a tear to her eye. "Thank you," she whispered.

They fell silent after that, the soft _click_ of Regina's shoes on the tunnel's floor. Robin kept glancing over his shoulder every so often, but instead of looking at Regina, his blue eyes seemed to be trained behind her, as if checking to see if they were being followed. Regina's pace was apparently not fast enough for his liking, and she could once again begin to see anxiety and urgency creeping back into his gaze, his walk, the way that he carried himself. He was trying to hide it, but Regina could sense as well as see the change in his demeanor, and she quickened her pace until she was walking just behind him, close enough for their shoulders to brush when they moved, although the passage was not wide enough for them to walk side-by-side. The silence seemed almost suffocating, and Regina finally dared to speak again. "Is it much farther?"

He seemed to consider her question for a moment. "We've almost reached the end of the tunnel," he finally conceded. "But it's a bit further along until we reach the safe house. There will be a car waiting to take us there."

Regina frowned. "Safe house?"

"I promised I would take you someplace where you would be out of harm's way. Trust me, there's no safer place."

"But my mother—I'll need to be getting back…" She trailed off. She had told her mother that she was going to be back late, perhaps that she would even spend the night with one of her friends—not that she had many these days, not since her family's public fall from grace, but her mother didn't need to know that. Cora wouldn't be expecting her for hours…or at least, she desperately hoped that was true.

"You wouldn't need to stay long if you didn't wish it," Robin told her, once again seeming to know exactly what she was thinking. "Just until I can be sure that we weren't followed, and that it's safe for you to leave. My bodyguard will personally escort you as far as you like to ensure your safety. In matters like this, one can never be too careful." He almost scowled. "There are some in law enforcement who would want nothing more than to see me locked away, and anyone associated with me. I would prefer not to have that happen on my watch."

"Why are you helping me?" Regina blurted out before she could stop herself. Robin looked puzzled, and she soldiered on, not sure if her rambling was fueled by fear or adrenaline or just pure confusion. "I understand why you want your staff safe…but you don't even know me. I'm just a stranger who caught herself in the wrong place at the wrong time and ruined everybody's night. Why…why do you care what happens to me?"

"Because I do know you, Regina," he said softly. She looked over at him in surprise. "No, I don't know you personally, but I feel like I do already. You're not like some of my usual clientele, wanting to come out to Sherwood Forest to break the law, to feel like they're being just a little bit rebellious when really they've never broken a rule in their life. You don't come there to see or be seen. You come to escape, but not in the way that Leroy does. It's not the liquor that intoxicates someone like you as much as the freedom, am I right?"

Regina had stopped in her tracks, although she knew that they had to keep going. She couldn't help it. She was staring at Robin, mouth agape in the very way that her mother hated so much, feeling rather like she'd just gotten the wind knocked out of her. "And how in the world would you know that?" she demanded. She had hoped her voice would come out sounding shocked, or at the very least offended, but she knew she had not succeeded.

"I meant no offense," Robin hastened to say. "I may not interact with my customers much, but that doesn't mean I never observe them. I had seen you a few times before, but speaking to you tonight, I realized that you and I are very much alike. That's how I know." He stopped then, as if giving Regina the chance to refute his suspicions if she wished to, but she didn't have a chance to open her mouth again before Robin held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks, before signaling her to turn down another corridor that she would have missed entirely if it wasn't for him. "This way."

Around the corner stood another door, almost hidden in the shadows, visible only when Robin held up the little lantern for Regina to see. The doorknob seemed to dangle from the wood, and the ancient lock was rusty. "Here we are," Robin told her softly, sounding more cheerful than before. "There will be a car waiting for us on the other side. Come on."

He reached for the doorknob, which turned with a piercing squeak. Regina's head swiveled to look over her shoulder, almost sure they'd be overheard and followed, but the passage was silent. She turned to follow Robin up another set of stairs, more rickety than the first, and through another door into a dank alleyway. She blinked at the sudden change of light, almost flinching at the unexpected contact when she felt Robin's hand on her shoulder. "This way," he instructed, leading her towards the mouth of the alley. Half-hidden in the shadows, a black car was waiting—a Rolls, maybe, although Regina admittedly didn't know much about automobiles. There was someone sitting in the driver's seat, and as Regina and Robin approached she suddenly found herself smiling as she recognized Will Scarlet. So Robin had been right after all—Scarlet had been able to get out before the cops got to him. More puzzling was the man leaning against the hood of the car, dressed in a sharp suit with a smirk dancing on his lips. He straightened up as they approached, and Regina saw a glint of metal. Her eyes widened. Sticking out from the cuff of his sleeve where his hand should have been was a hook, polished to perfection but looking out of place all the same. Regina swallowed and tried not to stare. She knew a war injury when she saw one, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever seen a man missing a hand before.

"Took you long enough, mate. I was afraid I'd have to go searching for you and blow our cover." Robin chuckled as Regina studied the man. Like Robin, he had an accent she was able to identify as British, but his was different somehow—less clipped and more drawling. "What was the hold-up? That's not like you at all." The man's eyes fell on Regina for the first time, and he arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting that you'd have company."

"She was in my office when the call came. I wanted to see that she was brought somewhere safe. Her name is Regina, and I take full responsibility for her until you can get her back to her own home. Sorry for the delay. Regina, this is Captain Killian Jones, a dear friend of mine. We served together during the war."

"I didn't know you were in the war," Regina murmured.

Robin shrugged, waving her comment aside as if it were nothing more than a slightly annoying fly. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. Killian and I had a fair amount of close calls over there, and he's my oldest friend. I'd trust him with my life."

"Good thing you do, or we'd have a few problems, considering you pay me to protect you."

"So this is the bodyguard you were telling me about?"

Robin and Killian exchanged glances, and Killian nodded at her once before crossing to open the door of the car for her. "As much as I'd love to exchange pleasantries right now, love, we're on a bit of a tight schedule. Now, if you'll just get in the car, we can be on our way before the sorry excuse for law enforcement in this country attempts to catch up with us."

"Where exactly is it that we're going?" Regina asked, looking between the two men expectantly. She might have been through a lot this particular evening—the bump on her head was still smarting, her feet were starting to ache, and already nervous butterflies were starting up in her stomach at the prospect of potentially having to explain all of this to her very irate mother—but she was no fool. She wasn't about to get into an automobile with three strange men without first having an idea of the sort of place she was being taken to.

Robin gave a wry sort of smile, holding the door of the car open for Regina to climb inside. "I had thought that would be obvious. We're going to the only place in New York I can be sure is totally safe. We're going to my home."


	4. Chapter 4

"_What?"_ Regina couldn't help but blurt out.

Robin paused, one hand on the roof of the car as he prepared to lower himself into the backseat. Captain Jones lingered, his hand on the handle of the passenger door, his blue eyes looking uneasily to the left and right. Regina could tell that he was anxious to leave, as was Will Scarlet, whose hands had begun tapping out a staccato rhythm on the steering wheel. But she couldn't help it. "When you said _safe house,_ I didn't think you meant—"

"I have a lovely little place over on Long Island. I'm sure you'll find it quite satisfactory. It shouldn't take us too long to get over there, and once I'm given the all-clear, we can get you back home. You'll be back sleeping in your own bed by midnight, provided that luck is on our side."

"Long Island?! No way! You don't understand, my mother will _kill_ me if she knows where I've been." Regina's head was starting to spin, and she took a step back from the car. She saw Captain Jones roll his eyes toward the sky. "I can't. I'm sorry. I never should have come with you. This was a bad idea—"

"A simple _thank you_ would suffice…" Robin muttered.

Now it was Regina's turn to roll her eyes. She had spent all of half an hour with this man, and while his kindness was evident and appreciated—more than he would ever know—she was once again struck by the fact that he was frightfully full of himself.

"Look, the cops have to have cleared the place by now. If you can just point me in the direction of 5th Avenue, I can be on my merry way. I'm very sorry to have been such an inconvenience tonight, but—"

"Regina, don't," Robin said, his voice a low warning. "I'm telling you, it's not safe yet. You leave here now, you're putting yourself in danger."

"I think I'll be fine."

"Mate, we need to go," Killian instructed, his eyes still darting around the perimeter.

Robin sighed, reaching out his hand for Regina to get in the car. "Regina, come on. Be reasonable here—"

"I hate to interrupt," Will Scarlet's voice cut in abruptly, his eyes trained on something in the rearview mirror. "But it would appear that we've got company."

Both Regina and Robin whirled around at the sound of footsteps in the alley, of gruff voices calling out orders. "They're over here!" someone shouted, far too close for Regina's liking. She heard a click, and realized that Captain Jones had produced a pistol, which was now cocked and ready, and her blood ran cold.

"Regina," Robin repeated, his voice deathly serious. "Get in the car. Now. Please."

Still, she hesitated as three uniformed police officers ran into the alley. "Freeze!"

"Regina, now!"

"Damn it, Scarlet, _drive!"_

Regina turned and leapt into the car, struggling to slam the door behind her. The tires screeched as Scarlet accelerated, trying to get them out of there as quickly as possible. Half-laying on the seat, Regina felt herself catapulted forward onto the floor of the car as Robin's hands reached out to steady her. She heard the sharp _crack_ of a gunshot, loud enough to hurt her ears, and she screamed.

"Get down!" Robin's voice was right in her ear, and then he was on top of her, pressing her down into the floor of the automobile, trying to shield her body with his. There was shouting all around, and more gunshots, and the smell of burning rubber from the tires seared Regina's nostrils. Not for the first time this evening, she found herself wishing she'd stayed home.

"Jones, what did I tell you about using that thing?" Robin demanded.

"I made a judgment call, Robin! Scarlet, can't this thing go any faster?" Captain Jones growled from the front.

"Do you want to give it a go?" Will hollered back angrily, his hands slipping on the steering wheel. They rounded a sharp turn, prompting squeals of brakes and more than a few honking horns. She could only imagine the sort of commotion they were causing out there, the amount of people they now had after them…and all because she had been too damn stubborn to get into the car. Regina Mills, ruining everything yet again.

"Any ideas?" Killian shouted over the noise. Another gunshot sounded, hitting the car's bumper, and Regina couldn't help but let out another shriek. "Preferably ideas that don't end in getting us arrested or killed?"

"Way ahead of you, mate. We're gonna lose 'em. I know a route that's sure to get them off our tail." He paused. "Probably."

Killian winced. "Very reassuring."

"What?"

"Forgive me if I'm not entirely willing to put my life in the hands of the unreliable Will Scarlet, who claims to know a shortcut!"

"You'll still make it home for bedtime, Jones, if that's what you're—"

"Will you just drive?!" Robin interrupted, making Regina jump. He was still shielding her, so close that she could feel the vibrations of his voice. His hands gripped her upper arms to steady himself in the midst of Will's manic driving, and she could feel his heart racing just as much as hers was through the fabric of their clothes.

"Er, right," Will stammered. They were still speeding along, but the gunfire had thankfully stopped for the time being. Regina, huddled against the floor of the car, tried to see out of the nearest window, but at her angle all she could manage were glimpses of lights and buildings careening by them at seemingly impossible speeds. She hadn't ever thought that a car could even go this fast before. "You lot might want to hold onto somethin'."

"What?" Robin demanded just as Will suddenly yanked on the steering wheel, sending them around another hairpin turn. Robin's arms tightened around Regina's body to keep her from sliding into the door, and her hands scrabbled for purchase on the floor. She could feel the grit caught under her fingernails—just add a good scrubbing to the list of things she'd need to do to keep her mother's suspicions at bay.

A few choice curse words slipped from Captain Jones' lips, and Regina almost smiled, in spite of it all. Behind her, Robin shook his head. "If we get out of this," he told Will loudly, "remind me to kill you."

* * *

Things improved after that. Will continued to lead the police on a wild goose chase, weaving this way and that and rounding a few more harrowing turns in his attempt to give them the slip. Finally, he announced that they were no longer being followed, and Robin and Regina were able to disentangle themselves and sit up. Regina's hair was a mess, and her headband had vanished entirely—after a few minutes spent searching, she finally found it twisted in a heap on the floor. Robin didn't look much better, and as he sat up he laid a hand on Regina's shoulder, looking into her eyes. "Are you all right?" he murmured, his voice almost tender, full of genuine worry for her. Regina nodded, collapsing back into the smooth leather of the seat. All was quiet for a moment as Will maneuvered them onto the bridge that would take them to Robin's house.

"I—I'm sorry," Regina whispered, looking down at the ground. "The chase, the gunshots…it was all my fault."

"Well, technically it was Jones who got trigger-happy, not you—"

"If I hadn't tried to fight you, we would have gotten out of there before there was any trouble. We wouldn't have had to lead the police around half of Manhattan…I wouldn't have put any of you in danger. It's my fault. I'm so sorry." Her vision became blurry as hot tears stung her eyes, but she refused to blink and let them fall. Crying was a sign of weakness, according to her mother, and she did not want Robin to consider her weak.

Will and Killian exchanged glances, and finally she saw the captain smile. "Don't be, lass," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "You gave us the most exciting night we've had in a long time. Plus, if there's one thing I know our Robin can't resist, it's a stubborn woman. Isn't that right, Robin?"

"Shut your mouth, Jones," Robin said, but Regina could hear a hint of a chuckle in his voice. His hand rested on her arm again, and she looked up into impossibly blue eyes. "No harm done, truly," he told her. "We're safe now—no way they could have followed that convoluted route. We'll get home—maybe give you a little something to eat? You look a bit peaked…and then Will and Killian will escort you home. Right as rain, you see?"

"If you say so," Regina mumbled.

The rest of the drive was uneventful. Regina thought she might have dozed, watching Manhattan speed by her as the men spoke in low voices. The next thing she knew, they were pulling up to a large house (though not the mansion that Regina had been envisioning) surrounded by trees, as if their purpose was to hide the home and its inhabitants from view. Will pulled the car to a stop at the end of the long, winding driveway, and the three men regarded the house warily. Regina put her hand on the door handle, ready to get out and stretch her legs, but Robin laid a hand on her arm. "Wait just a moment…until we know the coast is clear."

Quietly, Will Scarlet opened his door and exited the car, creeping along the rest of the drive toward the house. The tension in the automobile was thick, and Regina felt a pang of fear. "I thought you said we'd lost them."

"And I'm sure we did," Robin said smoothly. "But there's always the risk that they'll have found my little hideaway at long last…"

He fell silent, and they watched as Will disappeared into the house. Each minute seemed to stretch into an eternity, and Regina's palms began to sweat. When she saw the front door open once more, she braced herself, ready to see armed policemen marching toward her, ready for the feel of cold handcuffs snapping around her wrists…

"Papa!"

Regina opened her eyes to see a little boy, maybe five or so, running towards the car. His hair was a mop of unruly curls, and he blinked a few times in the car's bright headlights. He was grinning from ear to ear, Will following a few steps behind him. "All clear!" he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth, making Regina smile.

"Papa!" the boy cried again, and Robin smiled and unlocked his door. "My son," he explained as he got out, hurrying around to Regina's side to offer her a hand. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet and out of the vehicle. He caught her gaze and they smiled at each other, but the moment was interrupted by the small boy, who cried out again before launching himself into his father's arms.

"Oof!" Robin cried out, pretending that the child's embrace had been more forceful than it no doubt was. "Nice to see you too, my little man. Did you have a nice night?"

"Emma was just about to put me to bed when the call came about the raid! I was really brave, Papa!"

"I'm sure you were! And where is Emma now?" Regina raised an eyebrow, and Robin quickly clarified. "Emma Swan. Roland's nanny. She looks after him while I'm away at work…which is more often than not, these days. She's a godsend, let me tell you."

"Inside. She said she'd make us hot cocoa for when you got home!" Robin had by this point knelt down so that he was on level with his son, and Regina almost had to turn away at the sight of the love between them, so evident for all to see. She wondered if it stemmed from losing his wife so early, the connection that he and his little boy shared. She felt as if she were intruding somehow, and she saw Killian and Will standing off to one side. She was about to join them when the little boy noticed her presence for the first time.

"Who're you?"

Regina was taken aback slightly by the blunt delivery, but she supposed her unexpected and disheveled appearance allowed for it. "My name is Regina," she explained. "Your father was just…giving me a ride home."

"You're pretty. You look like a princess in the book Papa reads me!"

"Oh…thank you."

"I'm Roland!"

Regina's eyes met Robin's again over Roland's head. The man was grinning.

"It's very nice to meet you, Roland."

"Do you—"

"Roland, my boy, it isn't polite to keep a lady like Regina waiting out here in the cold. We must be proper gentlemen and invite her in." Robin stood up, taking his son with him and propping him on his hip. "Now, Regina, can Roland and I interest you in some hot chocolate?"


	5. Chapter 5

With Robin and Roland at the lead, Regina followed the others inside the ornate front door and into the house. The home had obviously been built rather recently (_new money,_ Regina could almost hear her mother scoffing in her head), and was furnished in a similar way to Robin's office, all dark wood and rich colors and simple but well-made fabrics. When she inhaled, she could smell fresh paint and new wood as well as the lingering scent of pine from the forest outside. To think that such wildlife existed so close to the steel and concrete of Manhattan seemed surreal to Regina, as if she'd wandered into a dream. After the night she had had, it certainly wouldn't have been too surprising. It was as if they were entirely cut off from the outside world here—the perfect place for an outlaw, a bootlegger like Robin, to hide from the law.

Immediately after entering the house, Roland began to squirm in his father's arms. "I wanna help Emma!" he cried, and Robin obediently set him on the ground. Roland's stocking-feet slipped on the floor as he scrambled off in search of hot chocolate, leaving the adults laughing in his wake.

"He never tires, that boy," Robin said. His voice was soft, but Regina could still hear the pride and love in his voice. What would it be liked to be so loved by a parent? Yes, Regina had adored her father, and she knew that he had loved her deeply as well. But as the years had gone on and his gambling problems had worsened, he had become more distant, shrinking back away from his daughter as if he was ashamed of what his behavior was costing her. And the more her father pulled away, the more her mother's disappointment and contempt for Regina started to shine through as she plotted Regina's future in secret.

Henry Mills had loved his daughter. But his love had not been enough to counteract Cora's resentment.

Captain Jones was the last one inside. He quickly locked the door behind them, ever watchful, as Regina took in the room. They were in some kind of foyer, but the smell of rich chocolate meant that the kitchen could not be too far away. A staircase led to the second level, but the floor above them was too dark to make anything out other than photographs on the walls. She could hear the faint strains of jazz playing somewhere deeper in the house, crisp and clear. Not a wireless then, a gramophone. A soft smile crossed Regina's face. When her mother had been forced to start selling off some of their things in an effort to make ends meet—as discreetly as possible as to not alarm any gentlemen callers who might come to see Regina—her father's gramophone had been among the first to go. Almost absentmindedly, she began to walk towards the source of the sound, but the soft _click_ of footsteps on hardwood floors stopped her.

"There you are. I was worried. It usually doesn't take you this long to get here after something like that."

A woman's voice. The nanny Robin had mentioned, Regina assumed. She turned, expecting to see a starched, stuffy woman with her hair scraped back in a severe bun, clad in some sort of awful uniform, but the sight that met her eyes was quite different. This woman's blonde hair hung freely down her back, and she wore a simple blue dress with an apron over it. The apron sported a few fresh-looking hot chocolate stains, but the nanny didn't seem to care. For some reason, Regina liked that. She was young, or at least younger than Regina had expected, and her green eyes were sharp and bright with curiosity as she took in Regina's disheveled appearance. "Roland said you had company," she told Robin, and Regina didn't miss the amusement in her voice.

"Ah. Of course, introductions are in order. Forgive me. It's been a bit of a trying night." Robin cleared his throat. "Emma Swan, this is Regina. She happened to be with me when all the trouble started and I promised I'd give her a lift home. Would you mind fixing her a mug of cocoa as well? And some sandwiches, I think," Robin added with another glance at her. Regina suddenly realized she was starving.

"Of course. I hope you like chicken salad," Emma said with a smile. Instantly Cora's voice was in Regina's ears, reminding her to watch her figure, but she ignored it and nodded rigorously.

"Good. Coming right up. It's nice to meet you, Regina," Emma said softly before disappearing back into the kitchen, where Roland could be heard eagerly calling her name. Regina liked this sweet little boy already.

"Please, come in," Robin said quickly, as if realizing for the first time that they were lingering in the home's entryway. He led them further into the house, into a sitting room of some sort. A fire was crackling away in the fireplace and photographs lined the mantelpiece, and it felt so homey and welcoming that Regina almost wanted to cry. Captain Jones quickly excused himself, murmuring something about needing to make a phone call. Regina could hear his voice in the hall as he spoke to the operator, mingling with the music and chatter of Roland and Emma in the kitchen.

"Emma was a friend of my late wife," Robin said by way of explanation. "They were both volunteer auxiliary nurses during the last year of the war, once America decided to get their act together and help us." His voice did not sound bitter, only matter-of-fact. "They became good friends over there. It's thanks to Emma that Killian is still alive today—she helped save his life after he lost his hand. _And_ she introduced me to Marian. I guess you could say we all owe her a bit of a debt around here."

"She sounds lovely."

Robin grinned at her. "Do you have any sisters?"

"No," Regina said softly. Sometimes she wished she did—an older one maybe, one that would take some of the pressure off Regina to make the perfect marriage to ensure their future. One who Regina could talk to about her hopes and fears and things she could never even dream of bringing up with Cora. But just like in so many things, Regina is alone, bereft without her father to provide a buffer of protection between her and Cora. "I'm an only child."

"So am I," Robin says quickly. "But Emma's the closest thing to a sister I've ever had in my life, and I'd do anything for her. We call her the nanny just so I have an excuse to pay her for her troubles—looking after this place can't be easy, bless her—but she's just as much a part of the family as Killian and Will are."

"Do you make a habit of hiring the people closest to you to work for you?" Regina asks before she can stop herself. "My father would say that's a very interesting business strategy."

"And I would say in response that it's the best business strategy I can think of," Robin countered. "These are the people I trust more than anything in the world. Who better to work alongside? I take care of them, and they take care of me, just like any other family. What better way is there to do business?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted. "That sounds fairly good to me, personally." Maybe if her father had worked alongside more people he knew he could trust, he would not have lost their fortune so easily.

She could feel Robin's eyes on her as she took in the room, turning on her heels this way and that in order to see everything it had to offer. The photographs above the mantelpiece caught her eye. There was Robin standing next to Killian—still sporting both of his hands—in crisp army uniforms, their faces solemn but their eyes bright. Before they had seen any combat, she supposed. Immediately next to it was a photograph of two women, seated with their hands clasped before them, wearing drab dresses and aprons with the familiar cross logo on them. One of them Regina immediately recognized as Emma, giving the camera a smile that was more of a smirk as she sat there. The other woman's hair was darker, waves spilling from her cap. Her smile was soft and full of warmth, and her dark eyes seemed compassionate to Regina even through the photograph. Before she could stop herself she reached for the frame, taking it from its spot on the mantle to study the picture further. Regina had been too young to volunteer as a nurse when the war had broken out—and even if she had not been, there was no way on earth that her mother would have let her go—but she had always admired the women that had dropped everything to care for the men Over There, going off into the unknown to do what they believed was right.

"Marian," said a voice next to her. Regina almost jumped. She hadn't noticed that Robin had crept up behind her and was now studying the photograph over her shoulder. His tone was soft, reverent, and Regina kept her eyes trained on the picture so that she did not have to turn around and see the pain that she knew was etched in his eyes. Why, why did she have to snoop? Didn't she know by now to leave well enough alone?

"My wife," he added, but he didn't need to.

"She's beautiful," Regina whispered. Robin nodded wordlessly. Suddenly feeling like an unwelcome intruder, Regina passed the photo into his waiting hands. He held it as if it were precious treasure, brushing imaginary dust off of the edges of the frame with the tips of his fingers.

"Yes she is."

"Roland takes after her."

At that, Robin let out a tiny chuckle, returning the frame back to its proper spot. "Indeed he does. If—"

"It's ready!"

Roland's voice startled them both, and they looked up to see the boy running towards them, a smile lighting up his entire face. He launched himself into Robin's arms once again, and Robin picked him up without hesitation. "Come on, Papa, before it gets cold!"

Robin chuckled again. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" He kissed his son quickly on the cheek before turning to his guest. "Come along then, Miss Regina. Our feast awaits."

Robin led her down another hallway and into a bright, modern kitchen. The scent of hot chocolate and the sight of a heaping plate of sandwiches on the small table made Regina's mouth water. Three mugs had been set out, and a fourth was cooling on a nearby countertop. Emma stood in front of this one, reaching into a cupboard that turned out to be full of spices upon closer inspection. Unsure of what to do, Regina lingered in the doorway, watching as Emma selected one and opened it, sprinkling a bit of rich brown powder into her cup. The scent of cinnamon filled Regina's nose.

"Anyone else want some?" Emma asked, turning around and brandishing the cinnamon. Regina shook her head as Robin motioned her inside, pulling out a chair and indicating that she sit. Roland immediately hopped up into the chair next to her, wrinkling his nose.

"No. It tastes funny. You're silly, Emma."

"Roland!" Robin chastised, but he was smiling as he too took a seat.

Emma smiled, crossing over to ruffle Roland's dark curls. "To each their own," she remarked, leaning down to place a little kiss on the top of Roland's head. "Oh, I almost forgot." She turned and set a plate of cookies on the table, much to Roland's delight.

"He'll never get to sleep now, Emma, I hope you realize," Robin said, shaking his head as his hands curled around his cup.

"He'll be fine."

Regina smiled at the friendly banter between the two as she took a bite of the sandwich Emma had made for her. She was so hungry that the first bite was like heaven on her tongue, and she focused the next several minutes on eating her meal while Robin and Emma talked in hushed voices about the raid. Killian had not yet returned from his telephone call, and Will was nowhere to be found, but Regina was too hungry to pay much attention to what was being said. It was Roland's voice who startled her out of her own thoughts.

"Regina," Roland said, his mouth full of cookie, his brown eyes wide and curious, "do you like trains?"

Regina was so surprised by the sweet, innocent question that she froze with her sandwich halfway to her mouth. Her eyes quickly shifted over to Robin and Emma, who were both smiling."I…I do," she said finally. "I like them quite a lot. Do you?"

Roland gave a serious nod. "I have lots of them upstairs. Do you want to see?"

"Roland, you are already up far past your bedtime," Robin interjected before Regina could answer.

Roland stuck out his lower lip in an adorable pout. His cup of hot chocolate had been finished while Regina hadn't been paying attention, and now it covered his mouth. "Emma said I could stay up!"

"Because this is a special occasion, but it's late. You should be asleep right now. What would your mother think of me if she knew how late I let you stay up?"

"Please, Papa! I promise I'll go right to sleep!"

Robin sighed, looking at his son solemnly. Finally, he nodded. "You may show her _one_ of your trains, Roland. Run and bring it down here. And after that, it's straight to bed and I don't want to hear any complaints, you hear?"

"Yes Papa!" Roland cried happily, jumping down and scampering off again. Regina smiled, wiping her hands on a cloth napkin.

"I see what you mean by him never tiring." Regina said softly as Captain Jones strode in. Emma and Robin immediately snapped to attention, waiting for news.

"All clear," Killian said simply. "Only two arrests that I know of so far. Incompetence at the police station as usual." He shot them a quick grin. "There's a fair bit of damage, though. Most of the stock that was stored away was safe, but from what Little John tells me, we have a fair bit of cleaning up ahead of us when we get back."

"You're going back?" Regina asked, setting her mug of hot chocolate down. "Isn't it dangerous?"

They all stared at her, and Regina swallowed. "I mean…they know where Sherwood is now. They know exactly where to find you. Won't that make it easier to come back and try to bust you again? Wouldn't it be safer to try to find a new location?"

"I can see why you'd think that," Robin replied. "It's what I'm sure my competitors would do, if given the choice. And it's certainly what the police will be expecting. But the location is too good to pass up. We'll lay low for a while, get things cleaned up and get a few new shipments in, and wait for the police to get bored and go chasing after someone else. They always do. There's too many men like me and not enough men who care enough to follow this ridiculous law. In a week or so, we'll reopen and it will be like none of this ever happened. You'll be back in Sherwood Forest in no time."

"I hope so," Regina said before she could stop herself. "I ddn't even get the chance to dance tonight."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Robin asked. "How about this? The next time you come to Sherwood, save a dance for me."

Regina gaped at him, her mouth almost falling open. Robin continued. "What do you say? You have to let me make things up for you for ruining your evening tonight. Just one dance, Regina? Please?"

Regina's eyes flickered to the doorway, almost praying that Roland would come rushing in to interrupt them. "Really, you don't have to. You've already been more than kind to me—opening up your home, giving me food. I couldn't ask for more."

"But you didn't ask. I did."

Regina was almost positive she was dreaming now.

"I found it!" Roland cried, rushing back into the kitchen. Killian had to sidestep out of his way to avoid being run over. Roland skidded to a stop in front of Regina, holding up a red model train for her inspection. "See? This one's my favorite. It's pretty, like you."

"W—Why, thank you." Clearly, the son could be just as charming and kind as the father. Regina couldn't remember the last time she had received that many compliments—and unlike those given by the suitors her mother found for her, she had a feeling that these were sincere. "That's very nice of you to say. And this is a very nice train."

"If you come back here, will you play with me?"

Regina blinked in surprise, glancing up at Robin. "I…if you'd like me to. And if your father says it's all right. I wouldn't want to impose—and it's not polite to invite yourself to someone's house without being asked. But if your father gave his permission, and if you really wanted me to come…"

"I do! I like you so much better than—"

"That's enough now, Roland," Robin quickly interrupted, leaving Regina wondering what the boy had been about to say. It couldn't be Emma, for she could tell that Roland adored his caregiver, and Will and Killian were clearly surrogate uncles to him. Who could it be, then?

"I would be happy to have Regina back at the house whenever she wishes, if that's what you'd both like," Robin continued.

"Hooray!"

"But now, my little man, it's time for bed. And remember your promise—no complaints." Roland nodded, setting his toy train on the table beside Regina's empty plate. The next thing she knew, a pair of little arms had wrapped themselves around her neck, pulling her close for a hug that smelled like hot chocolate and clean laundry.

"Good night, Regina," Roland whispered into her neck.

It was all too much—her exhaustion after the night's events, the stress of the ride over here, the overwhelming kindness that was being shown to her by these strangers. She blinked back tears as she returned the hug, holding the boy close to her for a moment before pulling away. "Good night, Roland. It was very nice to meet you."

"You'll come back soon, right?" Roland asked, his eyes wide. "You promise?"

Regina nodded. "As soon as I can."

Emma, standing in the doorway, smiled and held out her hand for Roland to take. "Come on, Roland," she said gently. "Time for bed." Roland obediently toddled over, suddenly tired now that he had gotten what he wanted from Regina. He gave her a shy wave as Emma began to lead him from the room.

"I'll be there in a minute to tuck him in," Robin told Emma.

"And read me a story, Papa?"

"And read you a story. Of course."

What a strange life this Robin Locksley led, Regina thought to herself.

With Emma and Roland's departure, it was just the three of them left in the kitchen. "Under normal circumstances, I'd escort you back to Manhattan myself," Robin began. He sounded almost guilty. "But Roland…"

"Your son needs you," Regina said immediately, getting to her feet. "I understand. I should be getting home anyway."

"I leave you in Will and Killian's capable hands."

She managed a little chuckle. "Don't you remember what happened the last time you did that?"

"Unfortunately, I do." He and Killian exchanged a glance, and Killian gave a subtle little nod before excusing himself, ostensibly to find Will and warm up the car. Regina's arms wrapped around herself as she stood before Robin, the silence between them almost deafening.

What was it about this man that made her feel this way?

"I do apologize for the unfortunate turn this night took," Robin said sheepishly. "But I hope I've made it up to you at least a little bit. At the very least, I believe you have a new friend in Roland."

"He's a wonderful boy, Robin."

"That he is. I thank my Marian for him every day." He took a step towards her, but hesitated. "And…I do hope you will consider my offer to dance. Is there somewhere I can reach you, so I can let you know when we re-open?"

"No," she said quickly. The thought of her mother finding any correspondence between her and Robin made her feel slightly ill. "I mean…I'm sorry. But I'm afraid not. Not right now, anyway. But I will see you again. I promise."

She had her own ways of finding out when New York's best speakeasy would be open for business.

"I'll hold you to that promise, Regina."

"I'm sure you will. You and Roland both." She glanced towards the doorway. "I…I should go."

He gave a nod. Was she just imagining the look that came over his face, as if he wished that she could stay?

"I—Good night, Robin. "

"Good night, Regina."

With that, she gave him a smile before making her way back outside, where the car was no doubt waiting. Her time with Robin had been like a dream, but now it was time to wake up.

It was time for Regina to go home.


	6. Chapter 6

The week that followed was the longest of Regina's life.

She had told Robin not to contact her, but every day when she woke up she wished that he would, in spite of her own common sense. Her mother didn't seem to have caught wind of the fact that Regina had spent her night not only at a speakeasy, but on the run from police and eating sandwiches in a strange man's kitchen, but even so Regina was still terrified of making even the slightest slip around her. She didn't sneak out for the entire week, even when she craved the loss of inhibitions that the gin gave her, even when she wanted to dance and be free so badly that she could almost hear the jazz in her bones. She obediently attended teas, made social calls, even went to one society dinner with her mother, where she sipped wine (it wasn't illegal alcohol that Cora disapproved of, it was mixing with the lower social classes to get it) and said all the right things and tried to pretend that the whispers about the Mills family's fall from grace weren't about her. She smiled and nodded and said all the right things, earning rare looks of approval from her mother and ignoring the whispers about her father and their loss of fortune. Whenever she could, she escaped her mother's watchful eye, wandering through the city, sometimes meeting up with old friends, doing anything she could to keep her mind off of Robin Locksley and his speakeasy.

After a week had gone by, Regina began to grow restless. A heat wave had struck the city a few days before, and the air was sweltering, almost unbearable. But the need to escape her house, the need to do something other than being dragged on stuffy social calls by her mother or pretend to shop with her old friends, who gave her pitying looks when she only browsed and never bought, was becoming too great to ignore. Regina didn't care if she melted into a puddle, she was going to get out of her house. She made her escape at the earliest opportunity, before her mother rose for the day, and spent the morning at the public library before having lunch at a little café and spending the afternoon in Central Park. She tried not to let her mind wander back to Robin again, as it had been threatening to do all week. What was taking so long? He had promised to stay in touch…but did she really even want him to? It was dangerous for her to be seen with him, in more ways than one. Wouldn't it be easier if she just stayed away?

But then she remembered Roland, the sweet look on his face, her promise to come back and see him again soon. She remembered the way Robin had protected her, a stranger whom he could have just as easily left to deal with the police on her own. She remembered his kindness, his compassion, the way he made her feel valued for the first time in years. And then she was gone again, recalling their harrowing escape from Sherwood Forest, imagining the dance that he had promised her.

The day was unbearably hot, the air thick and weighing her down, but the heat had a beauty all its own. She bought a hot dog from a vendor and ate it on the street corner—oh, what her mother would say if she could see her now—and strolled through the park, all but lost in her own head. When she finally decided it was time to return home and face her mother's wrath—preferably before Regina herself dropped dead of heatstroke—she made her way to the outskirts of the park, rejoining the throng of people also making their way home for the day.

A screech of tires suddenly made Regina look up with a gasp. A taxi was hurtling towards the curb at top speed, seemingly not noticing the little girl that was about to step onto the street. Regina stood frozen for a second, and then she was in motion, running for the child even though it seemed like she would never get there in time…

The little girl looked up and screamed as she saw the cab.

"Look out!" Regina cried, grabbing the girl by the arm and pulling them both backwards onto the sidewalk and out of the path of the oncoming car. She landed with a jolt on the sidewalk, the force knocking the wind out of her for just a moment. The girl rolled onto her side next to Regina, gasping for breath.

"Hey, watch it, kid!" the cabbie shouted, his voice rough and gravelly.

Regina stood up, furious. "_You_ almost ran into _her!"_ she cried, but the man was already driving away, his tires screeching on the hot New York pavement and leaving the acrid stink of burnt rubber behind. Regina shook her head, glaring after him, until he turned the corner and was gone.

"You saved my life!" a little voice squeaked.

Regina turned around, getting a good look at the little girl for the first time. She was young, maybe nine or ten, and had beautiful dark hair that fell in ringlets around her face like a doll's. Her eyes were large and stared up at Regina with a mixture of wonder and adoration. She reminded Regina, for just a moment, of Roland—the way children can be so trusting and comfortable with a person they've just met before. Regina envied her that. She didn't know the cruelty of the world, not yet. Part of her hoped that this little girl never would.

"Are you all right?" Regina asked quickly, reaching out a hand to help the poor thing off the ground. Her dress was expensive and slightly old-fashioned, and Regina could tell it had once been pristine. Now, though, the hair bow on her head drooped sadly to one side. There was a tear in her hem, and her stockings were ripped and covered in dirt and grime. Regina could only hope that she wouldn't get into trouble for returning home in this state.

The little girl stood, but did not let go of Regina's hand. She stood for a moment, breathing heavily and apparently taking stock of herself, looking for any sign of injury. "Yes," she whispered, apparently shocked and overjoyed that she had not sustained any injury. Her other hand reached for Regina's, wrapping her small fingers around her hand and holding on tight. The poor dear was shaken to the core, and Regina squeezed her hands in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

"But I'll never come out here by myself again," the girl said breathlessly. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, don't be silly," Regina said immediately. "Those cab drivers are maniacs, but that's not your fault. And it's certainly no reason to lock yourself away from the world forever. The only way to overcome fear is to face it, don't you know that? My father told me that." She smiled faintly, remembering the day he'd done it, when she had been eight years old and too scared to ride the roller coaster at Coney Island. By the time they'd left for home, she had ridden it three times and was clamoring for more.

The girl still looked unsure, and Regina squeezed her hands again. "Don't worry. I know you're scared now, but you'll see that I was right."

The girl's eyes were so full of adoration and gratitude that Regina almost had to look away. "Thank you," she whispered, her green eyes looking deep into Regina's. It dawned on her that the girl wanted to know the name of her rescuer.

"Regina," she told her with a bright smile. "Regina Mills."

The girl smiled back, a gesture that lit up her sweet face. "My name is Mary Margaret," she responded, her voice still soft. "Mary Margaret Blanchard."

"Pleased to meet you, Mary Margaret. Now, are you sure you're all right, dear? I'm sorry about your dress and stockings. I hope that won't get you into any trouble, coming home like that."

"Oh, no. Johanna can fix anything. I won't be in trouble. But I should probably be getting home soon. They'll worry if I'm gone too long."

"Of course. I understand. Would you like me to walk you home?"

"No, it's not far. Only a few blocks. I live on 5th Avenue. You can see the park from my bedroom window."

The girl said it was if it was nothing, but Regina had to fight to keep her mouth from dropping open. The girl lived on 5th Avenue, overlooking Central Park? Regina had just saved the life of a millionaire's daughter. Cora would have a fit if she knew.

"Well, if you're sure. I should be getting home myself, then. My mother gets worried too when I'm not home on time," Regina said with a wink, as if she and the girl shared some secret.

Mary Margaret's face lit up again. "Thank you again, Regina," she said, throwing her arms around Regina's neck. She returned the embrace, once again a little taken aback. The scent of lavender enveloped her as Mary Margaret's arms squeezed tight around her neck before letting go.

"You're welcome. And you be careful, okay?"

"Will I see you again?" the girl asked, her green eyes concerned. Regina got the distinct impression that she wanted her answer to be yes.

"Well, it's a big city. But you never know. You might."

* * *

Regina was lucky when she got home—Cora was having one of her headaches and was not to be disturbed. Her evening and much of the next morning passed in a blissful sort of solitude, until she returned from her afternoon walk to find her mother waiting for her at the door. She braced herself for whatever was to come, smoothing her dress and checking her hair in the hall mirror to make sure everything was in place. If Regina wasn't presentable, there would be hell to pay.

"Regina, hurry up! We have guests."

Regina's brow furrowed. The Mills women still paid calls regularly, but she couldn't remember the last time they'd received one. "Who?"

"Just hurry up," Cora hissed, pinching her daughter's cheeks to put a bit of color in her face. Regina knew better than to flinch away. "There's not a thing we can do about your dress, not when they're here right now, but I'll be damned if your face doesn't look its best…"

Regina found herself being half-led, half-dragged to the parlor. There was a shout of "Regina!" and then a pair of small arms came around her waist, a little head buried almost in her chest.

Regina blinked in surprise."Mary Margaret?"

The girl let her go and stood expectantly before her, a grin bright on her face.

"And her father," Cora said pointedly. Regina followed her mother's gaze towards a middle aged man in the corner, who stood up when her eyes came to rest on him. He had a kind enough face, if a little plain and forgettable, and it was obvious that Mary Margaret must take more after her mother than her father.

"Leopold Blanchard," the man said. His voice was soft, but held the kind of tone that meant that he expected to be listened to and obeyed at all times. Regina recalled that they lived on 5th Avenue, and surmised that he must be some kind of wealthy businessman.

"Regina Mills. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Regina, you neglected to tell me that you were a hero yesterday. I had to hear about it from the Blanchards here." Cora told her indulgently, her smile so wide that Regina was surprised that it didn't crack her mother's face in two. Her eyes, however, told a different story—they were wide and held a hint of warning, as if daring Regina to explain why she hadn't told her mother of her exploits the day before.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I guess in all the excitement it just…slipped my mind. But really, I was just in the right place at the right time. I did what anyone would have done."

"Oh, no!" Mary Margaret's father protested. "It was so much more than that. You saved my sweet girl's life, and I will forever be in your debt, Miss Mills. Truly."

"Oh, I don't know about that…" Regina said, growing flustered. Behind Mr. Blanchard, Cora was smiling like the cat that had gotten the cream.

"Mary Margaret, dear, why don't you run along and play?" Leopold said quickly. "The adults are going to talk for a bit, and you can come back in when the tea is ready."

Mary Margaret's lower lip stuck out in a beautiful pout. "But I wanted to spend time with Regina."

"You can later," Regina said quickly. "Why don't you go up to my bedroom? There's a few of my old dolls in the trunk in the corner that you can play with. I never gave any of them away. It's the first door on the right."

Mary Margaret looked up at her father as if seeking his approval. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she dashed out of the room and up the stairs. Mr. Blanchard watched her with a fond look on his face.

"Thank you for that. My daughter…she can be very delicate, and I didn't want to upset her."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Regina remarked. She felt her mother stiffen next to her, but kept on. "She didn't seem delicate to me yesterday. She had a scare, to be sure, but she was very brave."

"Since her mother passed away, Mary Margaret is all I have. She's my pride and joy, and if I lost her…I know I wouldn't be able to bear it. You saved my daughter's life, and there is no way to repay that debt."

Regina's smile tightened just a bit, and she looked down. Mary Margaret hadn't mentioned that she'd lost a mother. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said softly. "I understand the pain of losing a parent. It can be…unbearable."

"As can, I'm sure, the pain of losing a child," Leopold told her gently. "And that is a fate that you have spared me from."

"Why don't we sit?" Cora said quickly, gesturing to the settee. "The tea should be ready in just a few minutes, and—"

Her words were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Cora shot her daughter a panicked look, one that vanished as soon as it appeared.

"Regina, can you be a dear and get that?" Cora said quickly, her voice as cloying and sweet as syrup. She turned to Mr. Blanchard and gave him a practiced smile. "Our maid, Belle, has just stepped out to the market. I'm sure she'll be back soon, but in the meantime, Regina can manage, can't you, dear?""

Belle had not been employed by the Mills for six months, when they had all but ran out of money to keep paying her. Regina had done her best to work out some way for her to stay, but Cora had put her foot down, insisting that new dresses for Regina were a higher priority than having a pristine house—she must look her best if she wanted to make a suitable match. Now, someone came in once a week to clean, but they changed so frequently that neither Regina nor Cora ever bothered learning their names. Regina missed Belle—she was kind and quiet, and would look at Regina not with scorn or pity but with understanding and more compassion than most—but she wasn't sure why her mother had felt the need to lie just now. Apparently, Cora was still desperate to keep up the appearance that they had full-time help other than the ancient cook, who had been with Cora's family since before even she could remember and would no doubt keep dishing up meals for them until she dropped dead.

"Of course, Mother," Regina replied immediately, still the dutiful daughter. In truth, she was grateful for the opportunity to escape. Her sensible heels clicked on the hardwood floors—formerly adorned by thick, luxurious Oriental rugs—as she made her way to the front door. She wasn't exactly sure that she could handle any more surprises today.

She opened the door and nearly fell over.

Robin gave her a charming smile. "Good afternoon, Regina."

She stared at him a moment. He was dressed impeccably even in the heat, and his eyes told her that he was pleased to see her. Regina could only gape at him. "What are you—how did you—"

"Who is it, Regina?" Cora asked, her voice slightly shrill.

"Just a traveling salesman, Mother!" Regina called back. Could her mother hear the lie in her voice? She braced herself for the sound of her mother's footsteps, coming to check out the truth of Regina's story, but none came. "I'll just send him on his way!"

She turned back to Robin, dark eyes flashing. "I told you not to contact me," she hissed.

"Contact, yes. You made no mention of stopping by."

"How did you even find me? I didn't even give you my last name." _But I was so tired that I forgot to have Killian drop me off a few blocks away when he brought me home…Regina, you fool._

"I have my connections. And Killian was under orders to see that you got safely back. He was the one who told me where you lived. I was worried about you. From what you said about your mother…" He looked well and truly guilty now, as if he was just now realizing that his brilliant plan to track her down hadn't been so brilliant after all. Regina almost felt sorry for him.

"She's fine. She doesn't know anything yet," Regina reassured him. "Although if you keep this up, she very well might. You have to get out of here."

"But I needed to give you something."

Regina sighed angrily. "Fine. Meet me around the back. I'll try to slip away. If you see anyone, I want you to high-tail it out of here. If anyone asks, you were never here at all."

"You'd do a decent job in my line of work, Regina, did you know that?" Robin said admirably. "You seem to be very good at keeping secrets."

"You have no idea," Regina said witheringly.

"Regina, what on earth is taking you so long?!"

"Just one moment, Mother! I…I just wanted to give him a little something from the kitchen. Just some lemonade. It's a scorcher out there."

Regina could almost picture her mother trying to fight back the urge to shout at her again. "Very well, dear. Don't be long." Her tone changed again, back to that syrupy sweet one that nearly made Regina feel ill. "That's my Regina for you. Always thinking of those less fortunate…"

Regina had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother was truly laying it on thick for Mary Margaret's father.

"Don't worry, I have it right here. Sneaking around won't be necessary. Here." From inside his jacket pocket he drew out a small card, about the size of an invitation. Regina took it gingerly, as if it might burst into flames. The paper was thick and creamy, obviously expensive, and the writing was done in an impeccable hand. _"Sherwood Forest Grand Re-opening,_" it said across the top.

"Already?" Regina said, surprised.

"I told you that repairs and cleanup would take about a week. Plus I needed a day or two to make sure the trail had run cold, and that the cops had turned their attention elsewhere. Word on the street is that they're going after August Booth's establishment next. He's a competitor, but a decent one, and hopefully too smart for the police. He'll lead them on such a merry wild goose chase that they'll forget all about my place."

"I hope so," Regina said softly, still looking at the invitation. "So…tomorrow night, then?"

"10 PM sharp. I had hoped you would come as my personal guest."

"Robin, I…"

"I understand your circumstances. If you can't make it tomorrow night, I'll certainly understand. But I'll be waiting either way. I did promise you a dance, after all."

"Robin—"

"Just promise me you'll try to come. That's all I can ever hope to ask for."

His blue eyes implored her. Regina wanted to desperately to say yes, to escape from the mother she barely knew anymore, even if it was just for the night. And she wanted—it almost terrified her even to admit it—she wanted to spend more time with Robin.

"Promise me," he said again, his voice lower now.

"I promise," Regina whispered.

His face lit up, and Regina's heart forgot how to beat for a second.

"Wonderful. I hope to see you tomorrow night. Don't bother with a password. You're my guest, and they'll know to let you in. Goodbye, Regina."

"Goodbye," she said softly. She lingered in the doorway a moment, watching him go, before remembering that her mother and her guests were waiting on her still. She closed the door—loudly, to let her mother know that she was returning to the parlor—and walked back as if in a daze. She hardly paid attention to the conversation between her mother and Leopold Blanchard after that.

One thing was certain. Regina had to find a way to get to Sherwood Forest tomorrow night.


End file.
